"Your situation is creepy and disturbing'

CINTRA WILSON

Published 4:00 am, Friday, November 7, 1997

DEAREST Brevity-Appreciative Readers: The following is a Herculean editing task performed by myself on an eight-page letter, condensing the following ghastly situation for your horror and prurient interest.

Cintra, I Seek Your Guidance:

I've been experiencing a growing and sickening suspicion that my father's wife and stepson had a hand in his demise. My mother's brother, Uncle Sinclair, and his wife, Emma, adopted a son at birth, "Mooch." My parents divorced when I was 6. My dad remained friends with my aunt and uncle. In April 1986 Sinclair died, and in September 1986 Aunt Emma and my father eloped. I enjoyed telling everyone that I was my own cousin.

During later visits, Mooch and Emma kept drawing me into talks about his inheritance. Mooch said that he expected his inheritance not to be shared with me. It had never occurred to me how The Marriage would affect anyone's inheritance. Emma told me my father had quite a bit of credit-card debt and that he was trying to talk Emma into putting his name on the title to her house, which she refused to do.

About four years into the marriage, Mooch, who had always taken all of his meals with Emma and my father, moved back in with them and began living off of them full time, not contributing one dime toward groceries or other household expenses. Mooch works part time at a funeral home, picking up dead bodies at all hours of the night like some ghoul and assisting the funeral director. He professes to be an atheist, and he's a closet homosexual.

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When Versace's savage murder brought Cunanan to public awareness, I read what Cunanan's acquaintances had to say about that twisted sicko, and was shocked to discover striking similarities to Mooch.

In late October, 1996, my father was hospitalized for surgery, during which he almost died. The next day he suffered a paralyzing stroke. Plugged into a ventilator, he caught pneumonia, and was near death. I spent several days at my father's bedside. He began to improve by the time I left.

Emma was hysterical on the phone, terrified that my father was going to be released and sent home and despairing that she couldn't care for him. She didn't like the idea of a strange nurse attendant in her house.

The overall prognosis for my father was good. He was alert and able to sit in a chair. The doctor had performed a tracheotomy and left the wound open in case they needed to quickly put him on the ventilator again. After hearing that my father was going to survive, I told Mooch it was fortunate that he was recovering, since we sure didn't want Emma to have an invalid on her hands.

I was left with the uneasy feeling that I'd just given Mooch permission to make sure Emma wasn't burdened with an invalid. The next night, Mooch made the one-hour trip, alone, to visit my father. Two days later, Mooch called to say my father had died. He'd caught a staph infection from the open tracheal wound. In the following weeks, I phoned Emma frequently. She was obviously just fine and experiencing no grief from her loss.

In May of this year, Mooch's sister sent me a letter, explaining "the facts." She said that they hadn't trusted my father from Day One. My father had continually badgered Emma to put her house in his name, and he'd finally threatened to leave her if she didn't.

Mooch had both opportunity and motive to make sure that my father never left that hospital alive. I suspect that Mooch did something to my father that night he visited him alone in the hospital; maybe smeared something on the open tracheal wound that caused the infection that killed him.

I'm tortured by suspicions of what unspeakable obscenities Mooch might have done to my father's corpse in preparing it for burial, if he mutilated the corpse, or if my father is even buried in the family plot! What should I do? - G.G.

Dearest G.G.: Your situation is creepy and disturbing, but I would not recommend any crazy public accusations of Mooch, who sounds more wet-fingered and pathetic than cunning and murderous. It sounds like a wall of bad ju-ju to me, and the best thing you can do is forget all about it and peaceably live the rest of your life as far away from the Mooch contingent as possible.

Your father was a very old and sick guy; Mooch may be an ethical zombie, but it would take a lot more than basic greed and tawdriness to willfully pollute a tracheal wound. Even if he DID do it, I would shy away from feeling yourself obligated to plunge after him with the Blind Chainsaw of Justice, given how hard it would be to come up with any proof whatsoever.

Don't fiddle at yourself with morbid suspicions; you're just contributing to the gravy slick of bad ugliness that has already befouled your family nest. Let the karma planets mix their cold desserts.

Your dad, if he had any sense at all, would surely urge you to forget the whole deal. Move on with yourself, and if you get really upset, remember that the Borgias did it all before your family did.

OK, I lied. . . . Mooch and I are in LOVE. You'll never TOUCH us. But you can write to us at: CINTRA WILSON FEELS YOUR PAIN, San Francisco Examiner, P.O. Box 7260, San Francisco, CA 94120, or e-mail the Psychic Supergenius at zintra@aol.com&lt;